Chapter 15

“You sure this is the place?” Nina asked, looking up at the graffiti-covered brick building.

“That’s what the paper Dr. Joffre gave me says. Look for yourself,” Esther offered, handing the paper over to Nina from the backseat of the SUV.

Esther had texted Nina, and while she and Tucker ate juicy cheeseburgers for lunch, with chocolate milkshakes for extra artery clogging, Nina and Wanda came to their rescue to help vet Armand.

But Esther was worried about Wanda and her pregnancy. She was desperately tired, and fought admitting as much the entire way. Still, Esther was afraid to say anything because Wanda was also hormonal and easily riled. Mermaid versus halfsie wasn’t something she wanted to experience. So, she tread lightly.

“Wanda? Are you sure you’re okay out here alone, keeping watch? I feel like I’m keeping you from something,” Esther said, putting her hand on Wanda’s arm.

Wanda patted her hand and smiled her flawless smile. “Do you mean can the big fat whale keep her eyes open long enough to keep watch for the bad guys?”

“Fucking leave her alone, Wanda,” Nina groused, giving her friend a light shove. “She’s just lookin’ out for your mean ass. Jesus. Would you rather have Heath breathing down the kid’s neck if something happens to you? He can be a real asshole when his Mama Bear’s unhappy.”

Wanda pursed her lips and made a face. “He’ll do no such thing. I’ll box his ears if he puts any blame on Esther. I do as I wish.”

Nina snorted as she applied sunscreen to her nose in a thick slather. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m gonna box yours if you don’t quit taking offense to every fucking thing we say. You is strong. You is good. You is smart. I don’t know how many times we can tell your needy ass that. But you is also the biggest mess of fucking hormonal-pain-in-the-ass pregnant. Nobody doubts your abilities, Wanda, or your usefulness. You’re the reason we have OOPS at all. But we also never thought you could get preggers. That Heath even knocked your ass up is a fucking miracle. Don’t take that miracle for granted, and shut the fuck up before I shave your head while you’re sleeping, Mouth Breather. Feel me?”

Out of nowhere, Wanda laughed until tears came to her eyes, leaving Tucker and Esther fighting a snicker for fear of retribution. Reaching over, she pulled Nina to her and planted a smacking-wet kiss on her cheek. “You’re horrible. Go talk to Armand. I’ll keep watch for any bad guys.”

Nina squirmed out of her embrace and flipped her the bird. “Whatever. Now, let’s talk about this before we make a move. This guy’s probably pretty freaked out, if what the nerdy scientist told you about what he heard at Tecton is true. We don’t want to freak him out any more.”

“And somehow you come to mind when calm subtlety is a necessity?” Tucker asked on a laugh.

Nina stared him down with her piercing coal eyes, quieting him instantly. “Shut the fuck up, Sharknado. I’m not gonna say it again. I’ll show you subtlety when I pop your head off your shoulders.”

“Yeah. What Nina said. Knock it off, you monster, and put your disguise on,” Esther teased, driving a finger into his chest.

Tucker held up his curly black wig and glasses and made a face, but he put them on, just as Esther put on her long blonde wig and a beanie. The fear the press were lurking somewhere around a corner was very real, now that the news had broken that Tucker was accused of stealing the money and selling tainted water.

But after their conversation with Dr. Joffre, it became realer. So, Nina suggested wigs and glasses to further amp up concealing themselves.

“Ready?” Nina asked, not waiting for an answer as she popped the car door open and pulled her hoodie over her head.

“Let’s go see what we can see,” Esther said, opening the door and sliding out to join Nina and Tucker.

As they headed across the street, Esther couldn’t help but notice how dismal and depressing this neighborhood appeared. There was an empty lot directly across from the building, weeds and garbage lining the chain-link fence surrounding it. It almost looked deserted, but when someone came out of the building, she felt a little better knowing there was at least one inhabitant.

Yanking the dirty black door open, Nina shoved them ahead of her. Steps leading to the second floor, where Armand apparently lived, sprawled out in front of them, rickety and crooked. The inside of the building was freezing cold and as dismal, if not more so, than the outside. The scent of bacon and sweat assaulted her nostrils, making her wrinkle her nose.

As they climbed the steps, her heart pounding in her chest, she hoped against hope Armand had some answers. Funnily enough, this wasn’t just about her uncle anymore. This was about a nice guy who’d gotten a shitty rap. She truly wanted to help clear Tucker’s name.

His father’s anger last night had upset her a great deal, and knowing what it’s like to lose your parents made her more determined than ever to figure out what was going on. He was a good guy, and she believed that one hundred percent. Someone was railroading him, she knew it in her gut.

As they reached the second-floor landing, three doors, all rather crowded together in a small L shape, defined each apartment—one just as shabby as the next, with chipped paint and rust peeking through.

Nina pointed to the middle one and cocked her head in question.

Without saying a word, Esther nodded, adjusting her blonde wig. Nina’s hand rose to knock on the battered kelly-green door—just as they heard a loud crash.

“Helllp meee!” someone screamed from behind Armand’s door, making Nina react without hesitation.

She rammed her shoulder against the door, pushing it open as though it wasn’t made of steel but flimsy cardboard, and flew inside with Tucker and Esther hot on her heels.

A tiny man, with a thick head of snow-white hair and reed-thin arms stuffed into an overly large plaid bathrobe, lay on the floor, sprawled at an awkward angle.

Esther only caught a small glimpse of someone pushing their way out of the tall window and landing on the fire escape before she rushed to the man, and Nina and Tucker took action.

Nina, in a blur of motion, ran after the attacker, flying through the window with so much speed and efficiency, Esther had to blink her eyes before she could focus on the man whimpering on the floor. A man she assumed was Armand.

Tucker went right behind Nina, hurling his big body through the window with ease and clomping onto the fire escape—and then she heard Nina scream, before there was a series of screeching crashes against the metal of the fire escape.

“Nina!” Tucker hollered from what sounded like somewhere far away.

“Hold on! Don’t move, please!” she ordered the man on the floor, running to the window to see Tucker running behind Nina.

Seeing that everyone was still in working order, she went back to attend the man on the floor. Esther knelt beside him and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead as she kept an eye on the window. “Can you move?”

He nodded his head weakly and attempted to sit up, but Esther stopped him. He looked so fragile. “Maybe I should call an ambulance? Tell me what hurts.”

“Everything damn well hurts, but I don’t need an ambulance,” he grumbled, managing to sit up, using the edge of a torn blue sofa to do it. “Who are you?”

As she put her arm under the man’s back and helped him to his feet, he wobbled and stiffened, moving with reluctance. “I’m Esther Sanchez. I promise you, I’m here to help. And you must be Armand, correct?”

He flopped down on the couch and inhaled a rattling breath. “You’re Gomez’s niece?” he asked in a frazzled tone.

She straightened her blonde wig and her shoulders, feeling quite unsure of herself. “I am.”

He sat on the couch and stared at her, his hair mussed, his bathrobe wrinkled, and huffed a shuddering breath.

In return, she eyed him closely for any injuries, afraid to touch him for fear of scaring him further. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?”

“No!” he all but shouted, then lowered his voice. “Don’t call anyone. Please. Don’t call anyone.”

Esther instantly became concerned. “You are Armand Mendes, aren’t you?”

He shrank his frail body back into the couch “Why do you want to know?”

Looking down at him, so small, his skin so papery thin, she shot him a sympathetic glance. “Because I want to help you, Armand. I promise, I’m here to try to make things better, not hurt you. I want to clear my uncle’s name, and I think you can help.”

His faded brown eyes went fearful as he folded his gnarled hands together. “How…how do you think I can help?”

Esther pointed to the chair opposite him, an old cracked-leather armchair. “May I?”

“My manners. Forgive me. Please do.”

As she slid into the chair, she asked, “Before we discuss anything else, who was that who just ran out of here like they were on fire?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, his eyes now gone terrified.

She reached over and patted his hand to console him. “Did you see him? Can you describe him?”

Armand shook his head in a rapid motion, his thin chest pumping with his effort to breathe. “No. He had on a black mask. He didn’t say a word, but he meant business. I know he meant business. He had his hands around my neck just as you burst down the door.”

Had his hands around his neck. Hmmm.

“Do you think he was here because of what happened with my uncle?”

For the first time since she’d found him on the floor, Armand became animated, lifting his bony finger to stab it in the air. “I know Gomez didn’t kill himself! I knew him as well as I know myself, and he was too selfish and cantankerous to take his own life!”

She had to smile at that. At least it was some kind of confirmation they weren’t chasing rainbows. “How do you know that? You don’t think he killed himself because of those water tests for H2O-Yo?”

Armand fisted his hand and banged it on the arm of the couch. “I know he didn’t kill himself because of those tests! Those weren’t his tests!”

“How do you know, Armand? Where did he go the night he died?”

“He left work early. Left me to close up shop. Said he had to go to his apartment.”

“Did he say for what?” she asked.

“Gomez went there at least twice a week. So it didn’t seem strange at all to me. But when he didn’t come home, and I called and called with no answer, I began to worry, and then the police called and told me he was gone…”

Her heart clenched tight for the misery emanating from Armand. “Who found him?”

“The night doorman, Lester. He’d seen Gomez go up and had forgotten to give him a piece of mail. He brought it to him, and when he didn’t answer, Lester grew worried. So he called the police.”

Maybe they should be talking to this Lester?

Armand’s eyes shone with tears as he collapsed back against the sofa. “It’s my fault, you know. It’s all my fault. The only man I ever loved is dead, and it’s all because of me.”

Esther’s mouth fell open just as Nina hopped back in the window, with Tucker behind her. “The fucker got away. Man, he was slick AF. I fell two damn stories and it slowed me down. Got Wanda lookin’ out for him, but I’m not holdin’ out much hope.”

“Esther?” Tucker said, coming to stand next to her, his wig crooked. “Is everything all right?”

But she hadn’t gotten past Armand’s admission. She held up a finger. “Are you telling me, you and my uncle…?”

His chin fell to his chest as tears fell from his eyes. “Yes. We were lovers. For many years now, and if I had remembered to lock the office—our office—whoever it was who sent that damn email to H2O-Yo with those test results never would have gotten away with murder. I’m telling you, someone murdered my Gomez!”

“Whoa,” Nina muttered as she came to stand in front of Armand and looked at Esther. “Any idea who the dude was that attacked him?”

Esther gulped in some air as she processed. “No. He had on a mask, but he definitely wasn’t here for a beer, according to Armand. He tried to strangle him.”

Nina knelt down in front of Armand and gripped his hand, her eyes meeting his. “You a tea drinker?”

Armand swallowed hard and nodded with a shaky answer as Tucker put a blanket from the couch over his lap. “Yes.”

The vampire patted him on the hand. “I’ll go make you some, okay? You relax. Everything’s gonna be fine from now on.”

As she rose, Tucker stuck his hand out to Armand, using the other hand to pull off his wig and set it on the shabby end table. “I’m Tucker Pearson, sir. Pleasure to meet you.”

Armand smiled wide, his perfect white dentures flashing at them. “Oh, Tucker. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you after all these years, too!”

Tucker sat on his haunches in front of Armand and smiled a gentle smile. “Same here. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He shook his head. “No. No, I’m fine. Forget about me, and tell me about you. Tell me why you’re here.”

“Do you mind explaining what you mean about locking your office and the emails you sent?”

Armand deflated right before their eyes, his slender shoulders sagging. “Those tests, Tucker. I’m sick over those horrible tests. Those tests weren’t the tests we sent you. We sent you tests proving the water was bad. I know we did. Gomez frowned for days over the results of those tests. He knew the water could cause harm. He tested and retested and logged everything. We never, ever sent you anything that said the water was good, but someone must have gotten into my email and written one up, because there it was, plain as day when the police came and seized my computer! Everything, all his work, was gone. Of course, Gomez blamed me. The old coot had the audacity to say I didn’t lock the door to the office, but I know I did, Tucker. I know it.”

“So, you think someone swapped the tests? Because I can tell you, as sure as I stand here, Armand, I would not have approved something that was even a little fishy—not if there was the slightest chance it could cause even a small problem.”

Armand reached out and grabbed Tucker’s hand, leaning forward on the couch. “I know that, Tucker! Of course I do. We’ve worked together for years. I also know you didn’t send out some memo, telling production the water was a go. What you’ve got is a hacker, that’s what ya got. It’s all just a bunch of fiddle-faddle, that’s what it is. And Gomez was almost to the bottom of it, too. I know he was. He told me as much the day he—” Armand choked up then, his throat working to swallow his grief.

“Armand,” Esther said, tempering her words. “How do you know Gomez was on to something? What proof can you provide that proves he was on to something?”

He gave her a sad look. “Therein lies the problem, my dear. I can’t. I don’t know the first thing about computers and hacking, but he was convinced he was close to figuring out who’d swapped those tests and sent that email from my address. He was sure we could find the records of his logs. So, I ask you, if he thought he was on to something, why would he kill himself—in that mess of an apartment of his, to boot? Gomez almost never went there. He stayed here with me most nights.”

Nina handed him a cup of tea and asked, “You know about his apartment?”

“Are you asking if I knew the man I loved for over thirty years was a hoarder? Yes. I certainly did, and he wouldn’t let that terrible apartment go for all the tea in China, no matter how I begged. So, we came to an understanding, and he moved in here with the promise he could keep his old place.”

“Did he have an official diagnosis for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder?” Esther asked.

But Armand shook his head. “He didn’t need one. Gomez knew all the things he was without some doctor’s diagnosis. OCD, with a healthy dose of high-functioning autism. He knew, and he always said he didn’t need some doctor to tell him. But here, with me, he was different. So different… I wouldn’t have allowed his hoarding here, but I was the only one who could get through to him, explain things to him,” he said, his voice sad again. “Oh, don’t think for a moment I didn’t know how kooky my Gomez was, or that he was a selfish son of a bitch. But he loved me in his own way, and he would never take his own life. He was too ornery. But to take his own life with sleeping pills, no less? Preposterous!”

Esther’s eyes grew misty. This life of her uncle’s, this life he’d shared with Armand, left her feeling so sad for not pushing her way into it and making him engage with her.

“Oh, Esther,” Armand croaked. “I’ve upset you. I never wanted to upset you.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head. “No. No, no. There’s just so much I didn’t know. So much I should have known, had I pestered him to let me in. But I didn’t, and even if he was cranky and selfish, at least he would have known me. I would have known him.”

Armand waved a dismissive hand and frowned. “Bah! Gomez was difficult on a good day, Esther. Your grandfather knew it, so did your father. Small children made him nervous, and he wasn’t much for barbecues or parties. You can’t be blamed because Gomez didn’t want to engage, dear. That was just Gomez.”

“So, my grandfather knew about you? My father, too?” She felt like this whole secret life had existed around her and, aside from the occasional hushed, overheard conversation between her grandparents, she’d been oblivious.

Armand bobbed his head and his eyes twinkled. “They did, and they trusted I’d take care of him, and I tried, Esther. I really tried. Except for that day. That damn, damn day.”

Tucker rose from his haunches and sat on the arm of Esther’s chair. “Armand, were you forced out of Tecton? We were there today, and one, it’s awfully suspicious that someone broke in here and tried to strangle you. Two, they said you quit. Which I find incredibly hard to believe, considering the length of time you were there.”

Armand puckered his lips in displeasure. “Oh, you bet your bunions I was forced out. The minute they got wind of the fact that I supposedly sent that email, they moved in for the kill. It was over before I knew what hit me, those bastards. Thirty years of my life, gone like I never existed.”

Tucker clucked his tongue. “So basically, they were worried you’d sent the email stating the water was good and they were avoiding collateral damage?”

“You bet they were, and they want nothin’ to do with that kind of press. That slick fella, Richter from HR, told me as much. Said my memory must not be so good, and if I wanted my retirement package doubled, I’d shut my pie hole and go peacefully. But I told ’em I was gonna tell everybody. I didn’t want their blood money. I just wasn’t sure who to tell without some kind of proof.”

“Then they must think you have something here, something that can prove someone hacked into your emails, right?” Esther asked, hoping against hope he did.

“But I don’t have anything, Esther. Other than my heart, which tells me Gomez would never leave this planet willingly.”

“And his suicide email? He sent one to you, didn’t he?” she asked.

“Bunk!” he crowed, wagging a finger. “All bunk. Yes, it says it came from his email, but those weren’t Gomez’s words.”

Esther’s heart pumped a little harder. “Can you tell me what it said? Do you mind? I don’t want to intrude…”

“You can’t intrude on something that isn’t real. I’d let you read it, but whoever sent it, sent it to my work email, and as I said, they confiscated my work computer. All it said was, ‘I can’t live knowing I killed someone,’ with Gomez’s pretentious signature with a list of his awards and degrees at the bottom, and that was it.”

Her stomach turned. She didn’t know Gomez, but seeing as he wasn’t terribly personable or communicative, it didn’t sound outrageously unlike his personality. Which made her ask, “How do you know it wasn’t him that wrote it?”

Armand actually chuckled, sipping his tea, appearing to relax a little. “Because if you knew Gomez the way I knew your uncle, you’d know he’d prattle on and on about how much the world was going to miss him before he ever got around to telling anyone his reasons for offing himself in an email. Gomez loved to hear himself talk. I know that probably sounds strange to your ears, because he was so antisocial, but if we were talking about him, he was quite the Chatty Cathy. A suicide email from Gomez would have been far more complex. And sleeping pills? It’s ludicrous. First off, where did he get them? He lived with me, if you’ll remember. He didn’t even like to take a damn aspirin for a headache. Secondly, he’d no sooner take sleeping pills than he would arsenic.”

Closing her eyes, Esther inhaled and pulled off her silly wig, defeated. How were they going to prove someone had hacked into her uncle’s email, and Tucker’s for that matter? Jesus, what a mess. Not to mention, how were they going to protect Armand?

God, she didn’t want to do this, because it put Tucker at risk, but they had to call the police. She wasn’t going to let someone accost an old man to keep him quiet.

“We have to call the police,” she murmured. “Armand was attacked, and it’s probably because whoever’s made this mess wants to start cleaning it up and they’re afraid Armand knows something.”

Tucker nodded, but his face was stoic. “That was my next suggestion. I agree. I wholeheartedly agree. I don’t want to see you hurt, Armand.”

“Bananas!” he shouted, setting his tea on the end table with a frown. “The police didn’t listen to me, why would they protect me? They don’t think anything happened to Gomez to begin with, and Tecton’s not going to help. They’re going to cover up whatever they can to keep their stinkin’ noses clean!”

Tucker sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, that was before the embezzlement business about me got out. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but someone leaked it to the press. The entire story of how I gave the green light to the production of the new line of water. The missing money. There’s even a memo I allegedly sent to production, downplaying the severity of Gomez’s results. Which, as a by the way, I checked the timestamp on, and discovered I was indeed in my office when it was sent. Hacker? Probably. But who? Who wants me gone? Or who needed the money enough to blame me?

“I’m feeling pretty sure the police are going to think I killed Gomez to keep him quiet, now that they have that particular piece of information. Esther and I were just talking about how strange it is that they haven’t at least brought me in for questioning after that report.”

Armand slapped his hand on the arm of his ratty couch. “Well, I’m sure not going to help you do it. I’m not letting you ruin your life by going to the police, Tucker. I know you didn’t kill Gomez. I know it deep down. But they’ll pin it on you, with so much evidence against you. And if you call them and put the spotlight on you, I’ll lie and tell them nothing happened to me. I’ll tell them you’re both nuts.”

“But we can’t just leave you to your own devices, Armand,” Esther insisted, even though his loyalty touched her heart. “Not without risking you getting hurt. Someone thinks you know something.”

But Armand looked miserable, the lines in his aging face deepening, and he clenched his fists. “Please don’t do this, Tucker. Please. Gomez was so fond of you. He’d hate this.”

Nina, who’d been silent this entire conversation, finally spoke. “How about this: It’s probably not gonna be long before the cops come lookin’ for you anyway, but what if we bring Armand to Heath? If that’s okay with Armand, seeing as he doesn’t know us from Adam. We’ll send Darnell to keep watch and he’ll be safe until we can figure this out. Then I’m going to call my brother-in-law, Sam, and see what I can find out about this hacking biz. He’s ex-FBI.”

“I feel like this is a ticking time bomb, Nina. It’s just a matter of time,” Tucker said with a grim tone, rubbing his hand over his jaw.

But Armand smiled wide. “I don’t care if you’re a bunch of Satan worshippers. I’ll go with you if it gives you more time to figure this out and stick it to Tecton and whoever else is involved, the bastards! Thirty damn years of my life, all to be treated like some doddering fool!”

Nina and Esther smirked at each other. If only Armand knew how close he was to the truth about who was going to babysit him.

Nina shot him one of her beautiful smiles. “You’re sure you’re comfortable, Armand? I don’t want you to do something against your will.”

Armand began to rise from his place on the sofa, slipping to the edge and smiling up at Nina. “I’m just fine, and you’re dang pretty. If I played for the other team, you’d have to beat me off with a stick.”

Nina threw her head back and laughed, giving Armand her hand. “Let’s get you some clothes packed, Player.”

As she led him off to the bedroom, their feet padding over the worn shag carpet, Esther shivered. Finally, a break. Maybe a small one, but a break.

As they waited for Armand and Nina, who were laughing and joking, Esther took a look around at thirty years’ worth of two lives spent together.

The apartment was sparse, save for some very old furniture and a couple of paintings, but there was one wall—a wall filled with degrees and pictures. Tons of pictures of her uncle Gomez, who looked so much like her father, at work in his lab, his face serious, his expression determined. Several of him and Armand together were tucked into ornate frames. Armand’s arm around the shoulders of a reluctant Gomez, who stared at the camera as though it were a flying purple people eater.

And then, a surprise. Pictures of her grandparents, locked in an embrace in their old kitchen, playing pinochle in the summer under the big tree in her front yard. Pictures of her parents, waving from the shore of the beach at her cottage, sitting in the small motorboat they’d owned. Swinging Esther between them, during a walk on the beach.

And stranger still, a picture of Gomez holding her as a baby, right alongside her high school graduation picture.

Armand, now dressed in some black trousers and a periwinkle-blue sweater, put a light hand on her back. “He loved your family, Esther. He might not have shown it, no one other than those closest to him could detect it, but he loved your father, his parents, and even you, in his odd way. No, he didn’t know you—or even try to get to know you—but he’d smile at your accomplishments when he’d get mail from your grandfather. I know you tried to reach out to him, and I know he ignored you. We had many disagreements over the years about his family. He just couldn’t accept that they accepted him.”

Tears stung her eyes. “I wish I had known. I didn’t know anything about you or your relationship.”

He winked at her. “But you know me now, and I hope when this is all over, you’ll keep in touch. Also, I found this on Gomez’s nightstand. Forgot all about it till that cutie in there made me pack up my clean underwear.” He handed her a scrap of yellow lined paper.

As she read the scribbled words, she frowned. It was clearly someone’s email, but there were only two letters before the gmail.com, and due to the way they were spaced apart, she wasn’t even sure if the letters were meant to be together or if there were more letters in between. So, who the hell was PF?

“Is this what he found while he was looking for the hacker?”

Armand cupped his chin and shook his head. “I can’t say for sure, Esther. I can only tell you, he emptied his pockets every night before he went to bed. It’s been there since he…”

“Hey, you guys ready?” Nina asked, holding up Armand’s overnight bag, handing it to him. “Darnell’s outside.”

“When you are,” Esther whispered, and then she put her hand on Armand’s arm. “Can I ask a very personal, possibly intrusive, maybe even offensive question?”

He tucked his overnight bag over his arm and smiled. “Of course, dear.”

“Why here? Why this apartment? It’s so… The neighborhood doesn’t look very safe.”

“It wasn’t always like this, Esther. Twenty-five years ago, this area was what you young kids call hip. Over the years, life has taken its toll. But the primary reason? Rent control, dear. Gomez wasn’t willing to split a rent any higher than this because he just couldn’t give up his apartment full of all those crazy papers—that I will never, so long as I live, understand. In essence, your uncle was a cheap bastard. The cheap bastard I loved.”

A penny saved was a penny wise. Her grandfather had always said that. Esther threw her head back and had a good laugh as they made their way out of the depressing apartment and back to the street, to tuck Armand safely in the car with Darnell.